Force of Nature (28 page)

Martell cleared his throat, breaking the stunned silence. “Should I leave now?” he asked. No one answered.

“Why is that such a bad thing?” Annie asked Ric, her voice just a whisper.

“Because it is!”

“Why?”

“Because for one thing, sex ends friendships, all right? Christ, Annie, it was easier when you were off-limits, because I can live without the sex, but I can’t live without you as my friend.”

Martell didn’t move, waiting for Annie to laugh in Ric’s face, and then kick his ass up into the bedroom. She didn’t disappoint.

“You can live without the sex?” she asked, with, yes, disbelieving laughter in her voice.

“Yes,” Ric lied, heavy on the
s
, as if more sibilance would make him more believable, despite the fact that he was already shaking his head in a very solid no.

“Because I can’t,” she said. “Just the thought of you walking around all night with my panties in your pocket…”

“And it is time for me to go.” Martell grabbed Pierre’s leash. “Come on, dog-thing. Sleep over at Uncle Marty’s.”

“You can really live without the sex?” Annie asked Ric again.

This time he answered honestly. “No.”

“Then just…shut up and kiss me,” Annie said as Martell closed and locked the door behind him.

Ric was still angry with her.

Or maybe it wasn’t still. Maybe he was angry all over again. Either way, Annie could taste it in his kisses, feel it in the way he held her, touched her, his body taut, his hands slightly rough.

“I thought we agreed this was a mistake,” he all but snarled before kissing her again, longer, deeper, harder.

Just like at Burns Point, he had her pressed against the wall. Just like at Burns Point, she clung to him, opening her mouth to him, kissing him back just as forcefully.

She could feel him solid against her, and she opened her body to him, too, wrapping her leg around him, shifting her hips so that he was now pressed exactly where she wanted him.

“Oh God,” he breathed, his hands hot and rough against her thighs, pushing her skirt up indecently high, all the way to her waist, but she didn’t care. She wanted…

“Please,” Annie said, but it came out as just a muffled moan, because his tongue was in her mouth again. She could feel him unfastening his pants, heard the jingle of his belt buckle, the sound of something spilling onto the floor.

It was his credit cards, falling out of his wallet. And then it was his wallet, hitting the tile with a slap, tossed aside as he covered himself with a condom that he must’ve kept in there.

And then he made a sound that may in fact have been her name, but she wasn’t sure because she stopped listening, stopped thinking, stopped breathing.

Because there was only Ric—hard and hot and pressed unbelievably deeply inside of her.

She may have cried out, or maybe it was Ric. Again, she wasn’t sure. All she knew was that she didn’t want this moment ever to stop. She wanted to stay right here, in this particular now, until the end of time.

But then he started to move—slowly, languorously—an excruciatingly delicious sensation. It felt so good she started to laugh, and she discarded that other now for this new one, and the next, and the next, and the next.

“You think…this is…funny?” Ric’s voice came in gasps, and she opened her eyes to find him watching her, his eyes heavy-lidded and filled with heat, but not just from anger, from desire, too. He was feeling the same thing she was. She knew it.

“Is sex always this great?” she asked him, her own voice breathy and oddly high-pitched. “I mean, for you. With you. Because, for me, this is…incredible.” He pushed himself even more deeply inside of her, and she groaned. “Don’t ever stop, okay? I just want to keep doing this forever.”

Maybe it was the fact that he was laughing now, too. Or maybe it was the hot satisfaction that flared in his eyes. Maybe it was the fact that she was looking into those eyes, Ric’s eyes, losing herself in their rich darkness, surrounding herself with his palpable heat.

Or maybe it was reality giving her a shove. Nothing lasted forever. It was crazy of her even to think the word, let alone utter it aloud.

But she came in a shaking, shuddering rush, and Ric caught her mouth with his and kissed her and kissed her and kissed her until he gasped his own release.

And there they were. Both breathing hard, Ric with his forehead against the very wall where she rested the back of her own head.

His arms and shoulders were still tensed—he was, after all, supporting her full weight. Her feet were off the ground, legs locked around his waist.

This was, without a doubt, one of those times Ric had called her on—where she’d acted on impulse, without much thought as to what would follow.

Someone had to say something. And it was going to have to be her. She started with the obvious. “You should let me down.”

He did, lifting his head and opening his eyes, his muscles straining as he made sure her landing was gentle.

And there she was, with her boobs and her ass hanging out. Ric was just as disheveled, his pants down around his ankles, but of course, on him, it all looked unbelievably sexy.

At least it did until he spoke. “Remember how I said that when I’m with you, I usually end up doing something completely insane? This is one of those times.”

“Wow, thanks. It was good for me, too.” Annie was trying to wrestle her skirt back down, but sweat and spandex were not a good combination. She turned away, embarrassed, glad she was still covered by his jacket.

“I’m talking about the fact that I completely forgot you hurt yourself climbing up to that deck,” Ric told her. “You were right—I’m an asshole. Did I hurt you?”

He’d kicked off his shoes and his pants and was standing there wearing only his socks and shirt and tie, with such concern in his eyes, that Annie started to laugh.

“It’s not funny,” he said.

“Actually,” she said, “it kind of is.”

He looked down at himself, and almost before she could say, “I’m okay. I’m just scraped up a little—believe me, you didn’t hurt me.” He’d discarded the condom, peeled off his socks, and tossed away his tie. He took longer with his shirt, holding her gaze as he unbuttoned it. But it, too, soon joined his other clothes on the floor.

“Better?” he asked.

Oh yeah. Some men looked hotter with their clothes securely on—Ric didn’t fall into that subcategory. He was all tan skin and well-defined muscles and thick, dark body hair, and…She had to clear her throat before she could speak. “Definitely not as funny now,” Annie told him.

He held out his hand. “Let’s go upstairs and get your scrapes cleaned up.”

She didn’t move. “You seem…okay,” she said.

“You mean, as opposed to being in a panic because I just nailed Bruce’s little sister to the wall?”

“Will you please forget Bruce?” Annie said in exasperation.

“Okay,” Ric said. “Bruce is forgotten. You mean, as opposed to being in a panic because I just nailed a really good friend of mine to the wall?”

“The world didn’t end,” Annie pointed out. “Look at us. We’re still talking. We’re still friends.”

He laughed. “Friends?”

“Yeah, well, you’re now my naked friend, but that really works for me. Look at you—you’re my own personal hot-naked-guy fantasy come true.”

“Is that really what you think?” Ric was starting to get mad again. “Because there’s nothing easy in what we just started. You want a fantasy? Find someone else.”

“What we just
started…
?” Annie couldn’t believe it. “I’m leaving tomorrow, remember?”

He’d forgotten—she could see it in his eyes, on his face. He’d forgotten, and he didn’t want her to go.

And oh, the way that made her heart swell with hope—which was a dangerous way to feel. This was Ric Alvarado. What did she think? He was going to
marry
her?

“Maybe the message that Peggy Ryan left,” Ric said. “Maybe it’ll be enough to end this for good.”

And then she could stay for another week or two—a month if she was lucky. It would, however, be one hell of a month.

“Let’s go upstairs and get you cleaned up,” Ric repeated. But then he kissed her. “And after that I’m going to make you come again. Only it’s going to be in my bed this time, with plenty of pillows and candlelight, okay? If we’re going to do this, we’re going to do this right.”

Damn, skippy, when he put it
that
way…Annie took his hand and let him lead her upstairs.

C
HAPTER
S
EVENTEEN

J
ules had fallen asleep.

Right there, in Robin’s arms, no doubt lulled both by the movement of the limo, and Robin’s fingers running gently through the softness of his hair.

Robin had turned down the volume of the radio and gotten on the intercom to the driver, telling him they were having a business meeting back here—instructing him to just drive. Anywhere. Nowhere.

It didn’t matter, as long as he could stay right here, right like this, holding Jules for as long as possible.

There was a scar on Jules’s side, just above his hip, that he hadn’t had the last time Robin had seen him without his shirt. The last time? The only time, before tonight.

Before wonderful, amazing, fantastic tonight.

And okay. There were a couple of blips that marred the total perfection of the evening. The fact that Jules had this new scar from what was obviously a bullet wound.

Was the fact that he’d gotten shot once in the past two years good news or bad? As in, had Jules
only
gotten shot once, as opposed to the average FBI agent, who’d gotten shot twice? Somehow Robin suspected the true average was zero times. And this new scar, combined with all the others Jules permanently wore, created a certain amount of anxiety for him.

And yeah—another blip on his happiness index was the fact that Jules hadn’t responded with much more than a “Gah,” when Robin had uttered the most important words he’d ever spoken in his entire life.

I love you.

He’d never said it before and meant it. Not this way, with every cell in his body aching with both joy and hope. And terror.

But all Jules had said, after several long minutes spent catching his breath, was “God, that was great. That was…stupid, but great.” He’d softened his words by kissing Robin before they shifted to a more comfortable position on the bench seat, with Jules, who was shorter, spooned back against Robin, who wrapped him tightly in his arms. “It was significantly better than the fantasy version.”

Robin had laughed, playing with Jules’s hair. “Yeah, you’ve spent a lot of time with me in my shower, too, babe.”

“Every day,” Jules agreed, “since you flirted with me out on your driveway in L.A. I remember seeing you and thinking…” He laughed.

“What?” Robin asked, his heart in his throat.

“This one’s going to rip my heart to shreds.”

Not the words he’d been hoping to hear. “I won’t,” Robin said. “I promise.”

“Sweetie,” Jules had told him, his voice already fading. “You already have.”

“Tell me about Betsy Bouvette.”

Ric lifted his head from the damp tangle of sheets to look at Annie. “Isn’t this the part where we sleep?”

She smiled at him, her eyes as warm as the candlelight that flickered across her bare skin.

Annie Dugan was naked and in his bed.

It shouldn’t have been that big a surprise, considering what they’d just spent the last hour doing, but the realization was still new enough to send a shock wave of disbelief through him. She was breathtakingly beautiful, but probably not to everyone, Ric knew that—not in this day and age of rail-thin supermodels and anorexic TV actresses. But to him, Annie was the embodiment of everything he loved best about the female form. With her generous curves and smooth skin, she was warm and sweet and unbelievably soft.

As he looked at her now, he felt his body stir, which made him smile. What was he, seventeen? This was crazy, but damn, he couldn’t get enough of her.

“She was a year ahead of you in school, right?” Annie asked, reaching out to touch his tattoo, her fingers tickling him as she traced the ocean-wave pattern encircling his upper arm.

“Two,” he told her, catching her hand in his and interlacing their fingers. “Why the interest in Betsy?”

“I’m just curious.” She propped her head up on her other hand. “Do you think if she hadn’t dumped you, you would’ve married her?”

“Betsy?” Ric laughed. “No. We were kids. I mean, yes, she was special—she was the first girl I ever…cared about, but…”

“You said you loved her,” Annie reminded him.

“Yeah, I did,” he admitted. “But that was back when…I don’t know…love was this…It was this strange, new thing. It was all mixed up with sex and being fifteen and horny all the time.” As if being thirty-five had changed anything. “Betsy was smart and funny—I really liked her. A lot. And she liked sex as much as I did. But did I love her because she wanted to get with me, or did she want to get with me because I loved her? Or maybe she just wanted to piss off her father. I honestly don’t know.”

“You went out with her for a really long time.”

“Year and a half,” he agreed. In high school years, that was a lifetime. “Although part of that half year was really just me waiting for her to come home from college for Thanksgiving—which was when she broke up with me.”

“Oh, no.” Annie made a face. “A turkey drop?”

“Pretty classic,” he agreed. “At least we had sex first—before she broke the news.”

“You were really…monogamous all that time?” she asked.

Ric just looked at her, but she didn’t back down. She barely blinked. “Where do you see this going?” he asked her, instead of answering her question. “You and me.”

That
caught her off guard. And the change in her body language was immediate. She withdrew, taking her hand back, pulling the sheet around herself. Hiding.

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I’m pretty confused. About everything except the sex. The sex is…”

“Yeah,” he said. “For me, too.”

She smiled into his eyes, and there it was—that electricity between them that never seemed to stop flowing. Jesus God, just like that, he was hot for her again.

But Annie looked away. “But I guess…I didn’t realize just how big a mistake this was going to be.”

It was stupid. He was stupid. He’d used the word
mistake
himself, but somehow it stung, hearing it from her lips.

“I mean, everything’s changed, hasn’t it?” she asked.

“Yeah, well, I warned you.” His tone was far more snarky than he’d intended.

“I know.” She, too, got a little sharp. “But it wasn’t just me that got us here. You were a very active participant.” She reached down and wrapped her fingers around him. “Look at you—you’re ready for more. Or is this another
warning
?”

“Yeah, keep touching me like that.”
Was
that a warning or was he begging her not to stop what she was doing? He wasn’t sure. Mother of God…

“Do you just walk around like this all day?” she asked, her hands not a lot more gentle than her voice. “Just in case a willing woman passes by?”

“You,” he told her. “In case
you
walk by. You do this to me.”

She let go of him, flopping back on the bed. “God, you’re good. I almost believe you.”

Almost? He sat up. “Why don’t you believe me?”

“Because I don’t,” she said. “Maybe that’s the problem with being friends with, you know, benefits.”

Was that really what she thought this was?

“Maybe we just know too much about each other,” Annie told him.

“What do you know about me?” Ric lit into her. Friends with
benefits
? “When have you ever asked me what I’m feeling or what I believe in? You’re so ready to make assumptions—that I have a problem with you risking your life, that I want to protect you because you’re a woman? That’s bullshit—that was your word the other night, and it was the right one. But the bullshit was yours—it was you, jumping to conclusions. I don’t believe that women are any less capable than men, but
you’re
ready to think I do because you think you know me. Ask Lora Newsom what it’s like to work with me, Annie, if you don’t trust me to tell you the truth.”

She sat up, too, more than ready to fight. “Okay, so tell me, Mr. Touchy-Feely, where
you
see this”—she gestured between the two of them—“going. Because you know what I see? I see me leaving tomorrow, and being gone for God knows how long. And if I come back, we’ll both have had plenty of time to think, and it will be extremely awkward, because sanity will have returned. Neither one of us will ever be able to look the other in the eye again, and that’s it, we’ll be done. We’ll exchange Christmas cards each year and never see each other again.”

“So let’s make sure that’s not what happens,” Ric said.
If
she came back…?

“I don’t know how to do that,” she said.

“Well, you can start by coming back. Not
if.
Not
maybe.
” Ric spoke more sharply than he’d intended.

“Don’t yell at me!”

“I’m not!”

“Yes, you are!”

He couldn’t take it anymore. He kissed her, and she was fire in his arms, kissing him back as if it had been weeks since they’d last made love, instead of mere minutes. He rolled her over, grabbing protection from a box that he’d already ripped open, pushing between her legs, pushing himself home.

“I can’t get enough of you,” she gasped, saying aloud what he’d been thinking earlier. “This is crazy!”

“No, it’s not, it’s great.” His eyes were damn near rolling back in his head, it felt so freaking good.

“Right now,” Annie agreed, “yeah. But tomorrow’s…Oh God, it’s gonna suck.”

Ric couldn’t argue with that, since it was more than likely that tomorrow she was going to have to leave. All he could do was hold her as she unraveled in his arms, as his blood roared in his ears and rushed through his veins as she took him with her.

“Come back,” he whispered, when he could finally speak again. “After this is over, I want you to come back, okay?”

Annie opened her eyes and looked up at him, about to answer.

But his phone rang. His home line. The one he so rarely used that he set his ancient answering machine to pick up after only one ring.

His cell phone was downstairs, in the pocket of the pants that he’d left on the floor of the office, so maybe it was the FBI, tracking him down. Maybe they were calling to tell him that Peggy’s message had revealed all the information they’d needed, and that Yazid al-Rashid al-Hasan and Burns, both Senior and Junior, had been taken into custody, and that Annie wasn’t going to have to go anywhere at all.

But the voice on the other end wasn’t Jules’s or Yashi’s or even Deb’s. “You’re not
sleeping
, are you? Dude, the night is young.”

It was Gordie Junior.

“I tried calling your cell, but you didn’t pick up. I got a conflict for tomorrow night—I can’t meet you then, but I got some free time right now.”

Annie had propped herself up on her elbows, worry in her eyes. Ric shook his head, glad he hadn’t answered the phone.

But Junior wasn’t done.

“The lights are on in your office,” he continued, “and your car’s in the drive, so I know you’re there. Quit banging the double-wide bitch and come downstairs and let me in. I’m pulling up outside.”

Jules’s phone rang, waking him from the deepest sleep he’d had since he’d gone on vacation in Italy last year.

He wasn’t sure at first where he was. It was dark and music was playing softly. And he wasn’t alone.

He was in Robin Chadwick’s limousine.

It came back to him in a flash, complete with a flare of panic and surge of heat. What had he done? And sweet, sweet Jesus, when could he do it again?

His phone was lighting up, which helped him to find it and flip it open. “Cassidy.”

“Where the hell have you been?” It was Max, his boss, and he wasn’t happy.

Crap, it was after 1
A.M.
, and Max and Yashi had both called him three times in the past ten minutes. “I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t have my cell on a loud enough ring.”

“You all right?”

“Yes, sir. I’m…fine.” Jules wasn’t sure what he was right now—ecstatic or in despair—but either way,
fine
was such an understatement, he almost laughed aloud from the absurdity of what he’d just said.

Warm beside him, Robin was stirring. “Shit,” he mumbled, “I gotta pee.”

Jules moved across the limo, away from him, trying not to trip over the pile of clothing and shoes. “What’s going on?” he asked Max. “Did we crack Peggy’s code?”

Robin switched on the running lights, and they both squinted at each other in the dim glow. Hello, naked movie star. Robin smiled, clearly liking what he saw, too, but when Jules put his finger on his lips, he nodded.

“I’m at your hotel,” Max told him. “Why don’t you just get over here, as soon as possible? I’ll meet you in the lobby bar.”

“I’m on my way,” Jules said, hanging up and reaching for his shorts.

“Where to?” Robin didn’t hide his disappointment, but he also didn’t complain, his finger already on the intercom button.

“My hotel.” Jules sorted his clothes from Robin’s as that info was relayed to the driver.

“We’re just a few blocks away,” Robin reassured Jules as they both hurriedly dressed. “What’s up?”

“My boss is in town,” Jules said, tying his shoes.

“Max?” Robin asked, and Jules looked up. Robin remembered his boss’s name?

“Yeah,” Jules said. “He’s waiting for me in the hotel bar. He didn’t explain why or what’s going on.”

“Give me your room key,” Robin suggested. “I’ll go up and wait for you.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Jules said, quickly adding, “not because I don’t want you there.” He tossed Robin’s other shoe to him. “See, with Max, you just never know. He may want to hold a meeting in my room with the entire team. And I don’t have a suite like you do, so…”

“Then I’ll just come in and wait for you—on the other side of the bar. I won’t try to crash your meeting, don’t worry. I’ll behave.”

“I’m not worried. I just…I don’t know how long I’ll be.” Jules flipped down a mirror and checked to see if he had sex hair. Yes, he definitely did. He tried to smooth it down.

“I don’t care.”

“Yeah, well, I do,” Jules took a bottle of water from the limo’s minifridge, and poured some into his hand, using it in an attempt to reactivate his hair gel. Great, now he looked as if he’d just had sex in a swimming pool. “Do you have any idea how tired you look? Go back to your hotel—”